Autumn Leaves
by the girl with the blonde hair
Summary: The story of Katniss and Gale as told by the seasons. -gale


**Spring.**

_Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,_

_Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night_

_And make us happy in the happy bees,_

_The swarm dilating round the perfect trees_

Spring is very kind to her.

After a harsh winter, when the sun begins to beam and plants grow back to life, food becomes easier to scavenge. Animals mate which means there is way more game to catch, sparing her family food. Katniss feels like a lightweight when she gets ready to go hunting with Gale one April day.

Her long black braid twists down her back, traveling to the waist. Her hair has been growing longer, but she is not complaining. It's easier to plait longer hair. Her mother and Prim are still asleep, assuring her a good few hours before she will return from her daily run-in with Gale.

She trudges through the coal-filled streets of District Twelve, where some coal-miners nod to her. They are used to seeing her make her way through the village, down to the electrified fence and into the woods where Gale and she hunt for game.

Katniss approaches the fence, glances behind her for Peacekeepers, then slides under a small opening under the fence. Due to her thin physique, she can easily fit without any trouble. She jogs through the timber, careful to notice the blooming dandelions along her path. The bright yellow always manages to soften her hard-stare and let hope spring in her heart.

She finds her way to the rendezvous they always meet at. Before she can see him, he can see her. Gale turns around, a mischevious smirk planted on his face. "Spring is kind, isn't it, Catnip?" he simpers at her. Katniss lets a soft smile engage her face. The woods are the only place where she feels secure enough to let her guard down, the only other time is when her Primrose is next to her.

"Yes it is, Gale. Got any game?" Katniss asks. Nothing can ever change her brash demeanor, but Gale knows not to let her jeers and sarcasm bother him. He simply grins cockily again, showing her the squirrels notched into his belt. She nods approvingly. "Ready to hunt?"

Katniss is thirteen, Gale is fifteen. Even with the reaping approaching, the other one's company can wash the fears away. Just for the moment. Because spring is kind.

**Summer.**

_There is a singer everyone,_

_Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird_

_Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again._

Summer is confusing.

While the weather is warm and pleasant, and even though Katniss loves the feeling of the sun beating down on her olive skin, the threat of the reaping beats down over the sixteen year-old girl. She is not fearing for herself, but for sweet little Primrose Everdeen whose name is entered in the reaping one time too many.

Gale Hawthorne reassures her. He keeps telling her Prim's name is only in once, but Katniss's throat still constricts, and her hands clench into fists at the very thought of Prim's name being drawn. She is holding onto luck, and the odds are in her favor.

When Effie Trinket's white gloved hand reaches into the reaping bowl and she draws out the name _Primrose Everdeen_, Katniss doesn't hesitate but to volunteer. This time, it's Gale's throat that constricts and his hands that ball into fists. She will never know how he feels.

For Gale, he spends the days alone in the woods now. Katniss is shipped off into a fatal game, and he can't bring himself to watch. He finds himself in their rendezvous, watching birds chirping, and wishing life was simple again. When his mama forces him to watch, he can't help but let white-hot anger consume him.

Because, now that its Summer time, Gale is not the only boy she is looking at. She has her silver cat-eyes set on a handsome baker with ash-blonde hair and a charming smile.

Throughout the rest of the Games, he sits there, watching helplessly. He wishes he could be there for her, but he knows that Katniss Everdeen is a strong woman, and she has what it takes to win this Game.

She wins.

But she's not the same. Summer is confusing.

**Autumn.**

_The same leaves over and over again!_

_They fall from giving shade above_

_To make one texture of faded brown_

_And fit the earth like a leather glove_

Autumn is bittersweet.

You say goodbye to the summer sun and are greeted with colder winds, and the baby animals are growing up. However, Autumn has a majestic beauty with the blazes of carmine and orange and yellow leaves that descend from the ever-changing trees.

She finds herself changing too. She is still sixteen, the same age she was before the life-changing chess game she was interwoven into. But, her eyes tell a different story. Katniss has haunted eyes that betray her of her flawless skin and wavy black hair. She tries to smile for the cameras, but she can't. She feels alone, like no one understands her except the old resident drunk.

The dynamic of her relationship with Gale has changed drastically. She feels like a part of her is missing with the absence of her best-friend in the woods. Yet, she still finds herself walking up to the rendezvous that they have shared so many times before.

She sits down on the piece of rock she had claimed when she was twelve years-old, a young girl who thought she knew hardship but never truly did. _This _was hardship, losing a person you have grown to love, in the course of weeks.

In fact, Katniss Everdeen is so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she can barely hear Gale materializing behind her. She turns to him, and he offers her a sad smile. But she can't tell him anything anymore because he will _not _understand.

He's here, though. And so is she. But not really. Autumn is bittersweet because of that.

**Winter.**

_Whose woods these are I think I know._**  
**

_HIs house is in the village though;_

_He will not see me stopping here_

_To watch his woods fill up with snow_

Winter is harsh and icy.

Sleet pours down with the ivory snow, and the winds slap you in the face with their very force. It is bitter. It is harsh. It is tough. Katniss's life feels like winter at the moment. The war is over; she should be rejoicing, right? But her body is full of scars, and her mind is bruised and broken from the trauma. A primrose-shaped size in her heart has been torn out, and she is left to deal with the aftermath.

Little does she know that, all the way back in District Two, Gale Hawthorne feels the same way. Business is booming as he works his fancy job of designing weaponry, but he can't look at a bomb the same way knowing whose precious life had been taken.

The woods in District Two are not the same. There is no secret meeting place where two rocks are side-by-side. But, he still trudges on through the timber, letting snowflakes dance from his eyelashes down to his nose. In the bitter winter, Gale is bitter. He wishes things had played out differently. He wishes he didn't get so caught up with vengeful thoughts that he lost who mattered the most.

In District Twelve, Katniss goes to the woods after a few months. She stares up at the valley that used to seem so large when they were young, but it seems so small now that she's eighteen years-old and has lived more life than anyone else ever has.

Katniss and Gale know winter is harsh and icy.

Both of them sit in the woods, millions of miles away, wishing the other one was right there.

* * *

**a/n: **I want to clear some things up. I do _not _ship Gale and Katniss. Katniss and Peeta are perfect together, in my opinion. I just thought that this was a cute idea and wanted to put it to work. I may write more Gale + Katniss, but I do not ship them at all. They had a nice friendship, but it was ruined by time.

All of the poems in this story are by Robert Frost because I adore his work.


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